


Healing

by Raindropsonwhiskers



Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Category: Doctor Who
Genre: Abandonment Issues, Codependency, Cuddling & Snuggling, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Other, Queerplatonic Relationships, Trauma, this is my apology for whumptober
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-10
Updated: 2020-11-10
Packaged: 2021-03-09 05:35:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,619
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27489694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Raindropsonwhiskers/pseuds/Raindropsonwhiskers
Summary: Being safe doesn't always equal being okay
Relationships: The Deca - Relationship
Series: Whumptober 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2008846
Comments: 2
Kudos: 12





	Healing

**Author's Note:**

> It took me a little longer than I planned, but here's the first half of the comfort to Bloodied's hurt! I say the first half, because there will be another chapter with revenge against Marla,, whenever I get around to it. Until then, though, enjoy traumatized Theta being loved!

Theta didn't expect to wake up. She'd felt her consciousness give way, and her body slowly stop functioning, and she'd expected to just… go. Her mind would fade, and Marla would keep exploiting her body for Artron energy until Time itself snapped from the strain of all the paradoxes, and then everything would collapse in on itself in a tangled mess of hubris and pride.

But, instead of the welcoming embrace of the endless void that she had half-hoped for, Theta feels the warmth of someone's arms around her, and the pressure of a body on top of hers, and the thrum of another pair of hearts against her skin, and the comfort of a familiar mind prodding cautiously at the edges of her own.

It's a dream. It must be. Some last ditch effort by her failing, fragmenting mind, trying to provide peace in her last moments.

Well, it's working, at least. Theta does feel the closest she's gotten to safe in a long, long time. The arms circling her waist and the head on her shoulder might be figments of her imagination, but they serve their purpose well.

Idly, more out of curiosity than anything else, she opens her eyes to see which face her broken mind has put to the figure curled up next to her. It could be any one of her friends, really. What she wouldn't give to see them one last time before she dies, even if it's just in her head.

When she looks, she sees black hair and a slender frame sprawled on top of her torso. Koschei, then; she isn't surprised. It's only natural that, in her final seconds before she goes, her mind would summon her first friend. Stars above, she's missed him, missed _this._ His arms around her just like he used to do when they were kids, head buried in her shoulder, pressed so close that it would be impossible to guess where one began and the other ended.

'Koschei' stirs when she moves slightly, lifting his head to meet her eyes. There's a deep, unnameable emotion in his dark eyes, somewhere between longing and relief and a love that Theta didn't know her own mind was capable of conjuring up.

"Theta, I'm so sorry," he says quickly, Gallifreyan syllables tumbling over each other. "I didn't mean to- if I had just- I tried so hard to find you, but…" He trails off, arms tightening their hold. "You've regenerated. Stars, you had to do that alone. Thete, I'm so, so sorry."

Tears are welling up in his eyes, and Theta doesn't know if she's ever seen him so distraught. Well. 'Seen'. It's not like any of this is real. But it's good of her psyche to put on such a good show.

The urgent, hungry press of his mind against hers is a nice touch. It's been so long since she last felt anyone inside her head, but apparently she still remembers the feeling; the soothing flood of thoughts, the way he would always wriggle in just between her memories and stay there like a cat warming itself at a fireplace. She can feel him sorting through her more recent ones now, and there's a sense of growing horror and restrained _fury_ that she's rather impressed she managed to construct.

"Theta." 'Koschei' puts one hand to her cheek and meets her eyes. "Love, you do know this is real, don't you?"

It can't be. If this is real, then that means that her friends actually bothered to save her from her own stupidity, and she just can't conceptualize that. Why would they go through the effort, all for stupid Theta Sigma, who was always the one dragging the rest of them down? Why not just leave her there to die?

She starts to speak, and nearly chokes at the first attempt. Apparently her mind is staying realistic with regards to her voice, then, extrapolating that the intubation must have done a number on her throat. Instead, she goes for telepathy.

A sarcastic press of her memories of fading slowly, painfully away from her body, the psychic equivalent of rolled eyes, and the overall impression of, _"Well, what else could this be but a dream?"_

'Koschei's' thumb rubs along her cheekbone, a familiar caress turned pitying. She can feel sadness and love and hurt leaking over from his mind in a tangled mess. "Oh, Thete. Would it help if the others were here?"

No. No, because that still wouldn't make any of this real. Her body is still handcuffed to that horrible bed in Marla's horrible house and why won't her mind just _die_ already? Hasn't she been through enough? She takes back what she thought about how she would give anything to see her friends again before she dies. All she wants is for this all to be over.

Theta shuts her eyes, turning away from 'Koschei's' touch and shutting him out of her mind. Maybe if she just pretends he isn't there, her brains will get rid of him.

A moment later she feels the bed - _her_ bed, in her room on the TARDIS that she never used because why bother when the ten of them spent more nights together than apart, and she's a little surprised she remembers it so well - shift. 'Koschei' stands, and a moment later she hears a door open, then shut.

He's gone. Theta finds herself somewhat grateful; she doesn't want memory-constructs of her friends giving her false hope as she dies. But on another level, it hurts to have him leave her so easily.

Not that she should be surprised, really. She deserves it.

Though her sense of time is still too addled to do it naturally, Theta counts off the seconds. She wonders how long her mind will drag this out before letting go. A minute, an hour, a day? How long will she have to exist before she can just be free from it all? Why must she keep going, and going, and-

The door opens. This time, it's not Koschei, but Millennia. There are dark smudges under her eyes, exhaustion written plain in the slump of her shoulders, but a smile pulls at her lips when she sees Theta. She kneels down at the side of the bed, her hand finding Theta's and interlacing with it.

"Hey, Thete," she greets, gentle. "Koschei said you weren't sure if this was real."

Again, Theta tries to speak, tries to explain that it _can't_ be real, but she just chokes on her own voice before she can. A small part of her hates her mind for being so committed to realism.

"Don't strain yourself," 'Millennia' says. "Here, I'll…"

A brightness like sunslight and summer days pushes against Theta's mind, and she lets it in by reflex. She feels the same cautious prodding at her memories that 'Koschei' had done, and 'Millennia's' fingers tighten around her hand.

"What do you need us to do to prove that this is real?"

Theta tilts her head and frowns, baffled by the question. Why is her mind trying so hard to convince her that this delusion is real, when there's no point?

'Millennia' squeezes her hand again, drawing her attention. "Theta. You're safe, and this is real, okay? This isn't a dream. We found you, and we rescued you, and you're back in the TARDIS. Everyone else is just outside, and they're all worried sick about you. What would help you believe that?"

 _"Make it a surprise,"_ Theta thinks, before the rational part of her can stop the thought. _"Don't tell me when they're coming in. Maybe that will… help."_

She still doesn't know if she thinks this is real, but she wants to. More than anything, she wants it to be real. She wants to be able to believe that her friends really did find her, and that the nightmare she's been living for the past - she's lost count, but far too long - is over. Even though it _can't_ be.

A hint of relief slips from Millennia's mind to hers. "There, see? I can do that. It's going to be hard keeping Koschei out again, though."

Theta feels her blood run cold. Stars, if this _is_ real, then Koschei probably hates her for turning him away. He'd be right to, she'd deserve it. He's prideful, and she kicked him out of both her mind and her room, and there's no way he's going to forgive her for that.

The sunny presence of Millennia's mind sharpens as she must catch the edge of the thought. A second later, memories of Koschei's adoration are pressed, rather pointedly, into Theta's head. As much as she appreciates the gesture, it doesn't alleviate Theta's worry, and her hearts speed up when the door opens again.

Not even a heartbeat after he enters the room, Koschei is resuming his position curled up against her side on the opposite half of the bed from where Millennia kneels, so that Theta is being hugged from one side and her hand is held on the other. It's… comforting.

More gentle than before, his mind nudges at hers. She can still feel the hunger underneath the facade of restraint, and she doesn't hesitate to let him in. Then, belatedly, she scrambles to hide her fear of him hating her, because he can't know, he can't-

"I don't hate you, Theta," he murmurs, face pressed against her skin like he wants to crawl inside of it. "I'm just glad you're okay."

She relaxes slightly, though doubt still lingers. But before anything more can come of it, Ushas is stepping through the door. That does surprise her; she had been almost certain that Ushas wouldn't want to get so… emotional. She usually isn't big on displays of such things.

But now, apparently, is an exception. Though she's not nearly as obvious about it as Koschei, the way Ushas leans against the bed and presses her forehead to Theta's is a clear sign of affection. The push of her mind, all familiar angles and smooth edges, is soothing. They both stay like that for a long, silent moment, until Koschei reaches one arm up to drag Ushas into the bed.

Millennia muffles a laugh, badly. "Why don't we go to _our_ room if we're all going to cuddle?"

Theta really doesn't want to move, but she's also currently being squished by Ushas, and Koschei's resumed death grip on her torso isn't helping any. It's a little claustrophobic, if she's being honest, and now that she's thinking about it she can feel panic starting to rise in her chest. She knows, she _knows_ that it isn't the same, that she could get up and walk through the whole ship if she wanted to, but it still reminds her too much of being trapped in that awful room in Marla's house.

Ushas' voice breaks through the building fear. "If you'd like to take a walk around the TARDIS first, I'm sure that Magnus or Rallon would be happy to help you."

That sounds… good. It'll let her clear her head, hopefully, and might make things feel a bit more real. Theta nods, and Ushas stands up, letting her struggle to dislodge Koschei by herself. He lets go easily enough, though his reluctance is plain in his mind.

It's only when Theta tries to get out of the bed and nearly collapses to the floor instead that she understands why Ushas had suggested getting help for her walk. This body's legs haven't exactly gotten much use - less, even, than her voice - and they're weak and unsteady beneath her. Koschei moves quickly to sling her arm over his shoulders, supporting her, but getting to the door is still a slow process.

She can see the rest of her friends gathered outside before she's even out the door, trying not to look like they're anxiously waiting and doing a terrible job of it. The moment she's in the hall, she's nearly mobbed with the combined force of six very concerned Time Gentry. Everything becomes a bit of a blur of touch and mental contact, and it's overwhelming in the best of ways. It feels like coming home again, like if she just loses herself in their minds she can forget all of the past few months entirely. Maybe, with time, she can.

The walk around the TARDIS becomes more of a group effort than Theta had planned, but with how wobbly her legs are, she appreciates the extra support. There's always an arm around her waist, or someone to lean on - usually Magnus or Drax - or a steadying hand on her shoulder. Even with all that, she doesn't make it far before her legs are too exhausted to go on.

The instant she thinks that, the door to her left shifts from the gardens to the massive bedroom the ten of them usually share, and Theta really does love her ship. Mortimus gets the door, and she collapses onto the oversized bed immediately.

The soft, plush mattress is different enough from the thin one she'd spent weeks using for her mind not to panic, at least for now. Soon, she's joined by the others, surrounded on all sides and their combined presence so soothing that she could fall asleep just like that.

It's only when her eyes slip closed, halfway to unconsciousness, that she realizes what's wrong. A jolt of fear runs down her spine, and she feels the rest of them tense in response.

 _"Where's Marla?"_ she demands. A frantic press of memories accompanies the question, all tied together with heartstopping dread.

"Don't worry about her," Jelpax says, running one hand softly up and down her arm.

"She's been taken care of." Vansell sounds almost cheerful.

Theta wishes she could relax at that, but after everything, she can't just take that at face value. If there's even the slightest chance that- that _monster_ is still out there, then none of them are safe.

"Trust us, love," Koschei soothes. "She won't be hurting you again, we've made sure of it."

 _"Show me,"_ she begs. _"I need proof. Please."_

There's a moment where she can feel them all conversing, debating, arguing, and they're leaving her out of the loop. Her heartsrate skyrockets; what if they're lying, or they only _think_ Marla's gone, or she's led them all into a trap just like she feared she would?

Drax settles a hand on her cheek, cutting off that downward spiral. "We know exactly where she is, Theta, don't worry."

"She's locked up in the TARDIS," Mortimus says. "We destroyed her entire house as soon as we got you out of there. Considered the planet, too, but we didn't have the supplies on hand, and we thought it might be nice for you to do it yourself. If you want to."

As he speaks, he gives the memories to her - the house reduced to rubble, and Marla trapped in a perfect replica of the room she'd kept Theta in. The sight sends a pang of vicious satisfaction through her hearts, a vindictive glee.

"You can have a look, if you want," Koschei offers.

She does; oh, how she does. Theta wants to do every awful thing that she lived through to Marla and she wants to make that woman _suffer._

" _After_ you sleep," Mortimus adds. "You need it, Thete."

Part of her wants to protest, but it's hard when keeping her eyes open is a struggle. Her body knows it's _home_ and _safe_ and all the exhaustion she's built up is hitting her at once. Every part of her is achy and tired and so desperately wants to sink into the embrace of her family.

She turns over slightly, snuggles into Drax's side and back against Koschei's chest, and lets sleep take her. Her revenge on Marla can wait.

Waking comes slowly, somewhat reluctantly, after several hours in the warmth of a shared bed and the comfort of overlapping minds. But, inevitably, Theta does wake.

The first thing she does is a frantic check to make sure everyone's mind is still there, that the events of the previous day were real. She presses into their individual mindscapes, relearning old and familiar territory. The stained glass colors and geometry of Drax's mind, the steady warmth of Rallon's, the darkness of Vansell's thoughts that shimmers like an oilslick. Surely, _surely,_ even with how well she knows them, she couldn't recreate all of this in her own head. It must be real. Stars above, she wants it to be real.

Her prodding around in their heads must have woken Jelpax and Magnus both - though they're asleep practically on top of each other, so it's no surprise that when one stirs, the other joins.

"You okay, Thete?" Magnus asks, voice rough with sleep.

It's still her first instinct to try and speak, even when it leaves her throat burning and her hearts racing. Coughing is enough to set her mind scattering, apparently. She wishes she could be surprised, but it brings back a flood of memories - the gas, the feeling of waking with a tube down her throat, wanting to retch as Marla-

Jelpax's hand finds her arm, reaching over Drax to manage. "Theta. You're okay, you're safe."

How many times will she make them repeat that until she can believe it? How many times will one of them need to help her when she panics over something _stupid_ like coughing?

"It's not stupid," Magnus says gently. "And we'll tell you as many times as you need."

She wishes she could believe that, too; but her awful, traitorous mind whispers that they don't, that they're only using her. For what, she doesn't know, but she can't shake the coil of guilt and fear in her gut, no matter how gentle Jelpax's touch is, no matter how sweetly Koschei's arms are wrapped around her even in sleep.

 _"I'm going for a walk,"_ she thinks to them. She needs space, she needs to be alone.

It takes a little work to get out of Koschei's embrace, and he looks so terribly forlorn with his arms empty, and the empty space in the bed, almost perfectly in the center of the mess of limbs, makes her hearts twinge. But Magnus and Jelpax don't stop her from going, and she _can't_ stay another second. Not right now.

Theta makes it down nearly a full stretch of hallway before her legs get tired. As she braces herself against the corridor wall, her eyes land on a door. It's new; she can tell by the style of the Gallifreyan labelling it. The carving simply says, "Solitude," and nothing more. Well, the old girl's always been dramatic.

She has a fairly good guess of what lies behind that door, and she knows it's a bad idea to open it. Every remaining sane part of her urges her to just leave the door alone, go back to bed, and curl up in her family's arms and minds until she falls asleep again.

And yet, morbid curiosity makes her push the door open. It even makes the same static-y click, she notes, though it doesn't actually have a magnetized lock.

The room inside is, as Mortimus had shown her, an exact copy of the one she'd been kept in. There's even fake scenery outside of the window, and the temperature is positively frigid. And there, cuffed to the bed - though it's hardly necessary, since the TARDIS won't let her escape - is Marla. She's unconscious, and probably drugged.

Some horrible little part of Theta insists that she should be in that bed instead. She should be feeling the chafe of the cuffs against skin that never stops healing, she should be numb from the cold, she should have her very breath regulated. It's what she deserves. It's all she's good for. It's all her fault that any of it happened in the first place, and she's broken the laws of the universe by getting out of it, and any minute now this paradise she's found is going to collapse because of that.

Slowly, as if in a dream - and really, isn't she? - she steps closer to the bed. She doesn't know quite what she plans to do, but…

Something lands on her shoulder. Theta flinches and jabs an elbow backwards sharply. It connects with giving flesh, and she hears a groan. She whirls to see Koschei doubled over, pain written clear on his face.

"You listened to Magnus' lessons too well," he wheezes. "That bloody _hurt,_ Thete."

She feels awful immediately, resting a cautious hand on his shoulder and pressing apologies into his mind. _"You startled me."_

"No, no, it's fine. I should have said something." Still grimacing, he straightens and makes it a proper embrace, his arms encircling her. "Jelpax said you went on a walk, but I got a bit concerned. Are you- do you feel okay, being in here?"

No. Yes. Theta doesn't know _how_ she feels, all the emotions jumbled up and complicated. She hates this room, but she knows this room, but horrible things happened here, but it's _hers._ As satisfying as it is, on some level, to see Marla in the bed that she remembers shivering and suffering in… it feels wrong.

"Why don't we get some food, and then go from there?" Koschei suggests, rubbing soothing circles onto her back. She's pretty sure he's sneaking some Gallifreyan words in there; 'mine' and 'love' and 'safe' over and over.

 _"That sounds good,"_ she thinks, sinking further into his hold. Somewhere along the way, she'd grown used to a baseline of hunger, so it doesn't _feel_ like she needs to eat, but it can't hurt to try.

He presses a gentle kiss to the top of her head - he's just a little taller than her, now, she realizes belatedly. That's a change, and she isn't sure how to feel about it yet.

"You need to let go of me to walk, dear," he points out, a hint of a teasing grin on his lips. "I'm not going to carry you. I fear I'm too grievously injured by your vicious attack to even-"

Theta rolls her eyes and shoves him away from her before he can finish the remark. She's perfectly capable of walking to the nearest kitchen.

Contrary to what she'd thought, Theta is _not_ capable of walking to the nearest kitchen - not directly at least. Not when the nearest kitchen is inexplicably three hallways away from where they are and when her legs are so, so tired. She does manage it, but it takes two breaks and is mostly out of sheer determination rather than anything else. The moment she can, she collapses into a chair at the bar-like counter.

"Do you know what you like in this body?" Koschei asks, already rummaging through the fridge. "In terms of food, I mean."

Unbidden and unwanted, Theta thinks back to the last time she ate something more than bland gruel. Her head swims just from the memory of her racing hearts and too-fast breaths. She shakes her head 'no'.

"Something simple, then," he says.

He pulls out a few things, and Theta can still feel the memories pressing at her, making her hearts pick up. She stands, unsteady, and stumbles into the kitchen proper.

Koschei looks at her, stopping with his hands still full of food. "What's wrong?"

 _"Ingredients. What are the ingredients?"_ Theta demands.

She can't help but worry that he's missed something, that there's a poison or drug or something else unexpected just _waiting._ The TARDIS wouldn't generate something like that - probably - but if one of them had brought it back from a planetside trip…

"They're all from the TARDIS, so it's nothing you're- nothing you _were_ allergic to." He frowns. "Why, are you allergic to something new in this body?"

Theta grabs one jar from him, turning it over. A spread made on a planet a few galaxies away from Gallifrey, sweet but salty. Before, she'd liked it, enough to actually visit the planet in person rather than just request that the TARDIS make some. It looks unopened, but that only means it hasn't been tried, that it could cause a reaction because she doesn't know it's safe.

She throws it in the rubbish bin, and hears the glass jar shatter from the force of the impact. That sound only brings back more memories - the mug falling from her hand, the way Marla had cared more about the broken ceramic than anything else - and her hearts twist with panic. She shouldn't have done that, and now Koschei's going to be mad at her.

Frantic, now, she reaches in to pull the glass back out. Maybe it's salvageable, maybe he won't hate her.

"Theta?" His voice is soft but that doesn't mean anything; his is a cold, quiet anger. "What are you doing?"

 _"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I didn't think."_ Or, no, she thought too much and why is she always doing that, always overthinking everything, why can't she just go back to normal? _"I'll fix it, I promise, I will."_

His hand lands on her arm, a gentle hold that nonetheless makes her flinch slightly. She'd thought, after how easy it had been to sink into touch the day before, that this, at least, wouldn't be an issue. As always, she was wrong.

"Theta, I don't care about the jar. I'm worried about _you._ " He pulls her back upright, turns her to face him. His hand slides down, and he takes both of her trembling hands in his grasp. "What's wrong? Your thoughts are a mess, dear, I can't do much with that. You need to te- you need to be more clear."

He's mocking her. He must be. Theta pulls her hands away from his, takes a staggering step backwards.

"Please," he says, gentle. "I can't help you if you don't tell me what's wrong. Would it help if I got Millennia, or someone else?"

 _"No. I was being stupid. I thought-"_ She cuts the thought off, not quite able to put it so directly. _"I'm just being paranoid. Sorry. Please don't leave me."_

That last thought wasn't meant to be projected so loudly, but it's too late to take it back. Koschei's eyes widen, just a little, and she wishes she hadn't thought that. He'd always liked hearing that, when they were kids, but maybe that's changed or maybe she sounds too clingy, and she shrinks back even further.

He doesn't follow, and she can't tell if she's grateful about that or not. "Do you really think I would? That _any_ of us would?"

 _"I didn't expect you to come after me,"_ she thinks, in the closest thing to an answer she can bear. _"It was foolish of you. Makes no sense."_

"Theta, we were falling apart without you," Koschei says, so earnest that it makes her hearts ache. But it can't be true, none of it can be true. "We were- stars, we nearly went mad. Of course we came after you, that's all we did. I'm sorry we took so long, but I swear to you, we tried so hard."

Somehow, after everything, that's what pushes her to tears. She tries to blink them back, but that only makes them streak down her face faster. A tiny sob chokes its way out of her, burning all the way.

Koschei steps closer. "Can I hug you?"

As much as she wants the comfort of his arms, Theta shakes her head. He's only offering because he thinks he should, because he _pities_ her, and that would only make her cry more, now. He nods and clasps his hands in front of him, not quite meeting her watery eyes.

A few seconds later, she sinks to the floor, bending her knees up against her chest and pulling them close. Her _stupid_ eyes are still leaking tears, and she wishes that they would stop because she hates this. She hates that she can't just go back to normal, she hates that she's such a mess.

"I'm going to get you some tissues and blankets, okay?" Koschei asks.

Theta feels her hearts freeze. He's leaving her, he's going to leave her here and not come back and she's going to be _alone._ But she can't quite bring herself to ask - beg - him not to go.

"Theta." He kneels down opposite her. "Is that okay? I need a yes or no, dear."

A shaky, unsteady nod. If he wants to go, she doesn't blame him, she won't stop him. And then, to her bafflement, he doesn't. He sits down properly on the floor, and she can feel a ripple of psychic energy as he sends a thought to Rallon, asking him to get the things instead.

Her confusion must be obvious, because his mind presses soothing against hers and he says, "I didn't think before I asked. I'm not leaving you. If you need someone with you right now, I'll stay. And if I have to go, someone else can stay with you."

That causes a fresh wave of tears, and she feels like a little kid again, everything too much against the rawness of her nerves. Now that the floodgates of tears have opened, she has a sinking feeling they won't be easy to close.

The two of them stay like that - Theta sniffling and wiping away the tears that still won't stop, Koschei watching in silence - for a long moment.

A knock at the door, quick and more of a warning than a question, precedes Rallon's entry into the kitchen. He's got a large, fluffy blanket in one arm, a box of tissues balanced precariously on top of it.

"What happened?" Rallon asks, giving the tissues to Koschei and bending down to wrap the blanket around Theta's shoulders.

 _"I panicked about something stupid,"_ she snaps, and if she could speak she's sure her voice would be ragged with tears. _"That's what I do, now. I panic about stupid stuff and I can't even eat breakfast without thinking I'm gonna get poisoned, because_ she _did that and she's ruined everything! She's ruined me."_

"Oh, Theta," Rallon breathes.

 _"Would you stop with that? With the 'oh, Theta's and the pitying looks and acting like you_ care _?"_ The tears streaming down her face are angry ones, now; furious, like some switch has been flipped. _"Stop lying to me and just get rid of me already. I was already useless before and I'm worse now, so you might as well just dump me on some junk planet and go on with your lives! Stop taunting me and telling me you care."_

Time Lords are pragmatic, harshly so. The most efficient course of action is to either take her back to Gallifrey - but she can only hope they're not that cruel - or to dump her somewhere they won't have to worry about her. She would hate it, she would probably go mad from the grief and the loneliness, but that would hardly be their problem. It makes no sense to spend Omega knows how long trying to undo the damage Marla had done to her instead.

"I told you, love, we were a mess without you," Koschei insists. "We need you, and we do care about you."

Another harsh sob wracks though her, making her throat sting. _"Why?"_

"You're our hearts," Rallon says. He kneels in front of her like Koschei had, looking her in the eyes, and she's helpless to look away. "You brought us all together, Thete. We never would have been friends without you."

 _"You never would've gotten kicked off Gallifrey,"_ she points out, somewhat bitterly.

"And we would have all hated it there," Koschei retorts. His gaze softens, more serious. "I know you went through unimaginable things, and I know you've been hurt, but please, Theta. I need you just as much as I need Rallon, or Ushas, or Drax, or Mortimus, or Jelpax, or Millennia, or Magnus, or… Vansell." He grimaces, theatrical and exaggerated. "Don't tell him I said that."

Despite herself, Theta snorts.

Rallon sets a hand on her leg. "The point still stands. We need each other, and that includes you. You're one of us, and nobody else is allowed to take that away."

The warmth of his mind is soft but possessive as it curls around hers. It's wonderful, _perfect_ , to feel needed after so long being used as little more than a stubborn well of energy. With everything that's happened, she can't quite bring herself to fully believe it the way that she used to before, but Theta is starting to feel like she can at least try.

 _"I think I'm ready for that hug."_ The thought is barely a whisper, just a flicker of telepathy.

Instantly, Koschei's arms are around her, pulling her gently against his side. Exhausted and emotionally wrung out, she goes easily, resting her head on his shoulder and letting her eyes flutter closed. Rallon stands and moves to her other side, and somehow Theta's legs end up in his lap. She finds that she doesn't really mind.

"I never did make you food," Koschei murmurs against the top of her head.

Theta doesn't even bother putting together a proper mental projection to tell him that she's not moving. She's comfortable - and comfort _ed_ \- in a way she's been desperately needing, and the emotional turmoil of the day has tired her out enough that she doesn't want to lose the soothing press of either mind close against hers. So, for now, food can wait. Her family loves her and needs her just as desperately as she does them, and that's what matters most.


End file.
